If At First You Don't Succeed Try Again Last Week
by Queen of Thieves
Summary: Ch 2! DHr Hermione tests Lavender’s Divinations project only to find out that she isn’t the one to be named Head Girl!Now she’s getting a second chance to find out what went wrong and to fix it, and a third, and fourth, and fifth…Groundhog’s Day style
1. Week 1

A/N: JK Rowling owns all things Harry Potter. This story does not fall in line with the books. This story is also being entered into the Time Travel Challenge set by Paranoid Sarcasm in the Harry Potter Challenge Forum.

Hermione walked wearily into the Great Hall, praying that lunch was still being served. She'd been working harder and longer each night that week, and with only two days to go before the due date she wondered how she'd ever finish her Honors Project on time. A sigh of relief came when she noticed the four other students sitting together at the only table in the room, and then promptly groaned inward upon catching sight of the fifth member.

The six students were in the home stretch of the summer before their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and each of them had decided that they would finish their time at school with a bang by earning honors in an area of their choice. There was Ernie Macmillan, who seemed to be leading the race for Head Boy and had taken on the monumentally tedious task of rewriting Hogwarts: A History from scratch now that so many new things had been discovered hidden in the vast maze of hall and with all the events surrounding a certain Boy Who Lived. Lavender sat next to him, talking enthusiastically with her hands and gesturing to something Hermione couldn't see, no doubt her project for the newly reinstated Professor Trelawny's class. Neville was also occupied, showing Ron the pitiful looking plant beside him that was supposed to be his Herbology project, while Ron attempted to block Neville out as he poured over the Tranfiguration notes for his own project.

And then there was the person she least liked, the one person who could possibly put a damper on her summer of learning – Malfoy. It had hardly surprised her that he'd chosen Potions for his project, but what had quickly thrown her off balance was the way he acted now that the other Slytherins were no longer around. He wasn't exactly nice, he was Draco after all, but he no longer went out of his way to pick fights and had lowered himself just enough to allow small conversations with the other students, if only to get away from three months of utter boredom and solitude.

She tried not to look at him as she walked to the empty seat across from Ron. The others might have warmed to him a bit more, but Hermione couldn't forget the time he'd called her a 'mudblood.' As she drew closer and sat down at the end of the table next to Lavender she was able to see what the girl had been talking about. In front of her sat a golden hand mirror the size of a dinner plate.

"…and Professor Trelawny just thinks the world of it, says I must have the Sight to have been able to make something like this."

"And just whose death is that batty old woman predicting next?"

"You know Hermione, just because Professor Trelawny told you _you_ didn't have it in you back in our third year doesn't mean you need to criticize her every ten seconds. Besides, this actually works! I've been testing it out all morning. In fact, I think you should try it. Then you'll see. All you have to do is look into the mirror, ask it a question, and it shows you the future! I've only done short-term tests so far, but I'm going to make it work for distant divinations, I know it."

"What? Try that? Please. I have no intention of trying something as silly as fortune telling. A load of rubbish. Besides, I told you last week when you first started showing off this silly mirror, people shouldn't meddle in the future."

"Oh come on 'Mione," said Ron, looking up from his notes with a large smile on his face, "I know it works! I used it this morning at breakfast to find my lucky socks."

"The ones stuffed under your mattress corner?"

"How did you know that!"

"Because that's where you always put them so you don't forget where they are, and that's where they always turn up every time you loose them."

"Well Hermione," interrupted Lavender, "if you don't believe it works then there's no harm in trying it out."

She cast the girl a sideways glance and rolled her eyes. "Oh fine, I'll take a look. Anything to get you to stop talking about it."

Hermione stared at her own reflection, a smirk on her face. "Oh great divination mirror, show me who will be named Head Girl tomorrow." She looked over at the group of students, a look of mock surprise on her face. "Well what do you know," her own reflection staring back at her, "looks like your mirror might just work after all."

She started to hand the mirror back to Lavender, but quickly snatched it back as the polished surface began to cloud over. Hermione stared in confusion as her own reflection was replaced by that of Lavender's before quickly fading away, leaving Hermione staring back at her own horrified face.

What had that been? Surely this thing wasn't about to try and tell her that someone else was going to Head Girl, and Lavender of all people. The very thought of it was completely preposterous. Yes, maybe in some small remote corner of reality there was a tiny _tiny_ chance of Lavender being named. After all, the only mandatory obligation was to successfully complete an Honors Project; the rest was up to the teachers. But so what? Hermione had been the perfect student since the day she'd stepped foot in Hogwarts, surely the mirror simply didn't work as well as Lavender thought it should. She probably just charmed it to show her own face in order make herself feel better.

But though Hermione had managed to convince her mind, her stomach was still heavy with dread as she hurriedly grabbed her belongings, ignoring the surprised questions from her new friends, and quickly walked back to Gryffindor Tower to finish her project, quickly forgetting how hungry she'd been just a few minutes earlier. She passed the rooms of the other students – everyone stayed in one House dormitory since there were only six students as of yet – and quickly slammed her own open, shutting it hurriedly behind her.

She heaved a happy sigh as she looked at her Charms project. This was it, the solution to the problem that had been plaguing her for the past four years. Ever since she'd met Dobby and created S.P.E.W. she'd raked her mind for ideas to solve Hogwarts' house elf problem. And now she'd finally found a way. She looked with great pride at the crumpled rag sitting on the corner of her desk. She carefully spilled a bit of water from a glass onto her desk and watched with the same sense of glee that came each time as the rag swept across the surface of the desk to mop up the mess. It had been her first great breakthrough in her project to create charmed appliances that would eradicate the need for house elves altogether!

There was no doubt, she _would_ be named Head Girl, there was simply a problem with the mirror. She sat down to finish the last phase of her project hoping to get the thought out of her mind. According to the schedule she'd come up with for herself, she should have been done yesterday, but she'd had to hide from Ron so much lately that she'd fallen behind.

As she worked through the familiar initial steps she let her mind drift to the problem of Ron. She'd always been able to sense that he'd liked her, and in a way she'd been very flattered. But he simply wasn't on the same level as she was, he didn't take pride in his studies, and the only thing he ever talked about was Quidditch. What she needed to do was get him away from his silly crush on her and put it onto someone more receptive. But how? And who?

Her mind slowly ceased concerning itself with her project and she began to drift off as she thought of what to say to Ron. And before she could stop herself, she'd fallen asleep.

Her head felt stuffy and somewhat heavier as she felt herself being shaken. Her head rose from its stiff place on her arms to find a mound of red hair trying to wake her up.

" 'Mione you've got to wake up!"

Her eyes opened a bit more and when she realized who it was she jerked back with a start and nearly fell off her seat. "Ron what the bloody hell are you doing in here? You scared me half to death! And you're not even supposed to be in the girl's dorms!"

"That doesn't matter! Hermione where have you been? You missed the deadline! Everyone has already turned in their projects and the teachers have already voted! No one knew you were still up here, we all assumed you'd seen Flitwick. I'm so sorry."

"What do you mean already voted? That isn't supposed to happen until lunch time!"

"It's PAST lunchtime!"

Hermione stared in utter shock at her friend. Was it true? Could she really have missed the deadline? She knew Ron wouldn't lie to her about something this important. But that would mean…

"Ron… Who did they name Head Girl?"

"Look 'Mione I'm really sorry, we all know you were meant to have it, you just–"

"Who Ron?"

"…Lavender. Ernie got Head Boy."

Her eyes clouded over with tears and she slumped forward, her head buried in her arms. How could this be happening? Why? She'd worked so hard, only to have lost it all at the last moment.

"Please go away Ron."

He looked down at her, as though wanting to say or do something, anything to make her not look so horribly sad, but he couldn't think of anything, so he left, closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

Hermione woke up the next morning in her bed to the sound of owls hooting loudly. Her eyes cracked open, the bright light making her head pound. She sat up groggily, letting herself gradually wake up and adjust, and then everything came crashing back at her. The mirror. The unfinished project. Lavender as Head Girl. Not her. Lavender. The tears came again, heavy and hot, and her whole body felt as though it might fall to pieces.

She would have preferred to stay in bed all day, all year if possible. Anything to keep her from running into another living being, to know what everyone else must have heard by now – it wasn't her. Unfortunately her stomach had other plans for her. As much as she might wish to lock herself away, she was beginning to feel a bit dizzy from hunger.

She dressed slowly, praying the other students would be gone, off celebrating or whatever else, and she could be left alone to eat in peace and misery. Unfortunately, her wish was not to be granted. As she trudged into the Great Hall, barely aware of the walk down, she found the table full of people, just as it always was.

"Hey 'Mione!" Ron shouted happily across the room upon seeing her walk in, "You've got to come take a look at Lavender's project!"

"I've already seen it, remember?"

Lavender looked up at her, somewhat laughing. "What are you talking about? I only just started finishing it last night. What did you do, sneak into my room or something?"

Hermione ignored her question and attempted to look somewhat less miserable for the sake of her friend. "Well, congratulations."

"Huh? For what?"

"You got Head Girl. I'm really… happy for you."

"Granger you've been hanging around those charmed dust clothes too long, they've started affecting your brain. They aren't naming the Heads until after the deadline, remember? And we've still got another week yet before that."

"What are you talking about Malfoy? Projects were due yesterday, or did you miss it, too?

She expected some scathing remark about how at least he hadn't blown the chance to be a Head, but instead all she got was a series of confused looks.

"Hermione," Neville said, "He's right. The due date is still a week away. And, it's a good thing, too. I don't know what I'm going to do about my plant. For some reason it just isn't growing like it should. Hopefully I'll be able to figure something out."

Hermione took two seconds to let the information sink in and then promptly ran as fast as her legs would take her back up to her room, barely able to breathe by the time she'd reached the far end of the wall where the calendar her parents had bought her was hanging. And there it was. Her calendar, too, was telling her that was a week earlier than she thought. There was no mistake, she was very meticulous when it came to marking off days.

Something was very very wrong.


	2. Week 2

A/N: A great big thanks to everyone who read the first chapter! Less than 24 hours and I've already gone over 45 hits! That's more than all the other stories I've written combined (and they've been up for years)! I wanted to post this next chapter early just to get the ball rolling, but I'd also really love to know what you all think of the story so far, and if anyone has any suggestions for things to go awry, write those in. If I like the idea, I might just add it in (proper credit given, of course)! Happy reading!

WEEK 2

Hermione couldn't explain it, and there was very little she couldn't explain. Unless… Could that horrible week have all been in her head? Just a dream? But if that was the case then maybe Trelawny was wrong, maybe she did have the Sight. It was the only way she could explain away this feeling of de ja vou that kept popping up every ten seconds. After all, how else could she have known that right after Neville announced that he was done with lunch and got up he would step too far back, causing the bench with Ron and Draco, and their plates, to topple over backwards. And she laughed just as hard as the last time it happened when Draco pushed himself up only to reveal a face full of mashed potatoes.

After lunch had finished each student went their separate ways, the looming deadline first in everybody's mind except Hermione's. All she could think about as she walked to the store room on the ninth floor was the repeated week. By now she was fully convinced that she simply hadn't dreamt up the events of an entire week, but why it was repeating was the missing answer that continued to haunt her mind as she finally reached the massive closet.

She turned the knob and pulled hard on the massive door to reveal rows and rows of short and long handled brooms, boxes of rags, and every sort of cleaning utensil imaginable. She had discovered it during her sixth year when she'd followed a house elf around for the day to see just what kind of conditions they were working under. While she hadn't found any incriminating evidence of tortured house elves in the dungeons, she had found the supply room for the house elves and they'd been only too happy to allow her the use of any and however much of the equipment she desired. Of course, she hadn't told them why she continually needed the materials. They were very protective of their role as servants and any talk of freedom sent them into a frenzy of nervousness that Hermione found too annoying to bear.

As she began the walk back to the dorms she thought about everything that was supposed to occur this week. Maybe she was meant to change something. Something must have happened last time that needed to go differently. She stopped dead in her tracks and would have smacked her head had her hands not been filled. Of course! How could she have been so stupid and not seen it before! Something that went wrong last week that needed to be righted! That had to be it! She was being given a second chance!

"I knew I was meant to be Head Girl! Now I've got the chance I need to finish my project, and this time I _will_ finish it! No interruptions!"

She walked up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, her mind filled with thoughts of everything that still needed to be done for her project, but before she utter the password the painting swung open on its own to reveal Ron behind it. Both took a startled step back before Ron came forward, arms stretched out.

"Hey! I was just looking for you. Lemme help you with this stuff, and I need to talk to you if that's alright."

"Actually Ron," Hermione said as she side stepped her friend and sped her pace up a bit, "I've got a lot to do right now, but maybe later, okay? Great, see you, bye!"

She leaned against the door and took a deep breath before setting everything down next to her already eyebrow raising pile of things and locked the door.

_Sorry Ron, but I've got more important things to deal with right now. _

It took a total of four days for Hermione to complete her project, taking extra care with every detail. Not only would she turn her project in, she'd make sure that it was the best Charms project ever submitted. It had taken attempt after failed attempt, but she'd finally worked out the kinks. And not only had she finished earlier than planned, she'd used the extra time to go a step further than she'd originally planned. A simple "_abstergo_" followed by a proper flick of the wand and the broom, mop, rag, etc. in question began its chore of cleaning up the area it was placed on.

The rags would wipe any surface it was placed on clean of stray liquids without falling off the edge of the table (a particularly difficult aspect to pull off). The brooms would sweep as much of the floor as possible without knocking over tables or chairs and would deposit all dirt in one area that the morning house elves could clean up in a flash. This was followed by the mop, which was assigned to the obvious task of a more thorough cleaning of the floor. When the task at hand was finished the cleaning devices would simply return to their places until the time when they'd be used next.

Though it would not eradicate the need for house elves altogether, it would significantly reduce the number needed each night in Hogwarts' daily maintenance and was simply the first stone in the foundation for a possible expansion of ideas. Already Hermione was pondering other ways to further reduce the need for house elves. She could almost see the Minister handing her a medal for her work on house elf liberation. Or even better, her own Chocolate Frog Card.

She did a happy jig as she descended the stairs, project in hand and determined to hand it in as early as possible, and passed Ron and Lavender in the common room. Both looked at her as if the four days she'd locked herself away had done something to her head. Hermione simply smiled at them and continued on to Professor Flitwick's classroom, where she found him seated upon a rather unsturdy looking pile of books going through what seemed to be a lesson plan for the coming year.

It was another thirty minutes before Hermione emerged, her bag now emptied of her project, leaving a rather impressed-looking Flitwick in her wake. Her whole body exuded the confidence she felt inside that she was now going to be Head Girl. She was deciding just where her badge would look nicest, on the right side or the left, when she turned the corner and bumped right into Malfoy, causing him to drop the cloth-wrapped something he was carrying. Following their mutual _oomphs_ was the sickening sound of breaking glass and the cloth now crumpled on the floor began to smoke slightly as whatever liquid has been concealed within the glass soaked through it.

Malfoy's eyes widened at the sight and abruptly narrowed into a menacing glare as he rounded on Hermione.

"What the hell do you think you're doing! That was my Potions project!"

Hermione scrambled to her feet, an apology on her lips, but Draco had already begun to storm off.

"I suppose I should feel a little bit happy. Stupid weasel deserved it." But somewhere in the back of her mind she felt a twinge of guilt and the rest of her mind could only wonder what would come of this.

The next day Hermione decided she would head to the library. Now that she'd turned in her Charms work she had a good amount of free time on her hands, and what better way to spend it than by preparing for the challenges that would be present in the upcoming year. One more year, and then it was over. No more Hogwarts, no more weekends spent studying for tests three weeks in advance under the trees outside. She still wasn't sure what would happen with Harry or Ron, if the three of them would still keep in touch afterwards. She had a bad feeling that after she broke the news to Ron that she wasn't interested in him that way he'd never want to speak to her again. Boys were strange that way.

These thoughts occupied her mind until she walked through the large double-doors and the welcome smell of books filled her nose. She would miss this place the most. She walked past the empty desk where Madam Pince normally sat, her ears able to pick up even the faintest of too loud a whisper. As she wandered aimlessly down the aisles she spotted a slumped over figure at one of the desks, numerous tomes surrounding them.

She leaned over one stack of books to fine Ernie sleeping soundly, his nose buried in the spine of a book so old it looked as it the pages might disintegrate at any moment. Next to him was a long piece of parchment, filled with small notes, lengthy passages, and sprinkled with a few quotes. She couldn't resist the urge at taking a closer look so she carefully lifted it from the table and hid on the other side of the books so she wouldn't be caught. If anyone asked she'd simply picked it up off the floor.

As she read through the shorter bits and skimmed over the lengthier parts she shook her head in disbelief. _This_ was his project? This thing was going to nail Head Boy for him? Even Ron could have written something better than this! So why was Ernie the one getting the badge?

It was a thought that stuck in her mind for the rest of the day and well through dinner. But as she wearily crossed another day off of her calendar and climbed into bed that night all she could think about was looking through Lavender's mirror the next morning and being able to see her own face.

Saturday morning she walked down to the Great Hall, an extra bounce in each step. The others were just as they'd been last Saturday, with Lavender's mirror completed and out in the open. Hermione was in such a good mood that she wasn't bothered by Malfoy's presence, though it took an extra large 'good morning' to help her not notice the angry look he was sending her and the familiar twinge of guilt that followed. She walked up just as Lavender finished her sentence about Trelawny's lengthy praise.

"Hey Lavender, is that your Divination project?"

"Oh, morning Hermione. Yeah it is."

"Mind if I take a look?"

Lavender, Neville, and Ron looked at her as if she had a screw loose. They'd all been present the day she'd told off Trelawny and stormed out of the classroom and were now unsure what to make of her sudden willingness to try out something Divination related.

"Er, sure, go ahead."

"Alright mirror, show me who Head Girl is going to be."

Though her face was calm and confident, her knuckles were white as the gripped the stem of the mirror. And soon after her face turned just as white as Lavender's face stared back at her for the second time.

No, no it wasn't right! It had to wrong! She'd done what she needed to do! Her project was done; she'd turned it in _early_ even! She was supposed to be Head Girl now! Why was this stupid mirror lying to her!

She let the mirror drop back to the table and quickly excused herself amidst the familiar concerns and questions.

Back in her room she locked the door behind her and fell onto the mattress, burying herself under the pillows and blankets. She stayed that way until morning, but the locked door did not allow Ron to enter. It didn't matter. She already knew what he would say, and so she stayed where she was, looking up only once to look over at her calendar. She picked her wand out of the pocket of the robes she had worn the day before and made two small X's where she hadn't crossed off the previous two nights, and then promptly went back to sleep.

The sound of hooting owls woke her again on Monday. She rolled over to help herself out of bed and almost fell over when she realized one of her legs was still asleep. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked over at her calendar, preparing her wand to cross off the miserable Sunday that had just passed. And, for the second time, found that her calendar read a week earlier than it should be.


End file.
